Please note that the poems and essays on this site are copyright and may not be reproduced without the author's permission.

Monday 13 January 2014



_A061137: photo by Caspar Claasen (Caspar_Claasen), 6 October 2013

Toy ships or pilot fish are floating memories.
And then, as the nonthreatening prerecorded sounds
drift down the aisle, and echoes of answering machine messages
meant for lost children eerily burble up

through the opaque blue glass museum display case
water, it starts to seem ok, a plastic chair waits for you,
having escaped the rocks of Kitchen Appliances,
to sink in and make yourself at home.

_A220177: photo by Caspar Claasen (Caspar_Claasen), 22 October 2012

_2031485: photo by Caspar Claasen (Caspar_Claasen), 2 February 2013

_C050734: photo by Caspar Claasen (Caspar_Claasen), 5 December 2012

_1050009.jpg: photo by Caspar Claasen (Caspar_Claasen), 14 August 2011

_5160677: photo by Caspar Claasen (Caspar_Claasen), 16 May 2013

_1040741.jpg: photo by Caspar Claasen (Caspar_Claasen), 16 July 2011


Poet Red Shuttleworth said...

I dream/nightmare that world-hilarious... which is somewhere... at some edge of my windblown isolate's world... almost within touching range.

ACravan said...

I've been loving and amazed by this all day. Curtis

TC said...

Our good friend Hazen has been once again stripped by Blogger of his commenting privileges while on the road. Google, that Dark Side version of Motel 6 -- they WON'T be leaving the light on.

Anyhow, Hazen is made of stern stuff and not so easily discouraged. He has kindly sent along this "refused-by-Blogger" comment by the back-channel slow-boat.

"Opaque. So fitting for these times.

"Overheard this snippet of conversation while trying to wake up over coffee in the Express Breakfast room of my hotel: "In New Zealand they have a new kind of zoo. They put people in cages and drive them around so the animals can view the people."

"My thought response, no doubt inflected by being sick and far from home, was: 'Don’t let them out.'"

And, inflected in my own bent direction as ever, I thought, too right.